


Hurricane

by eiluned



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Electricity, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Storms, Window Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She closed her eyes and imagined that she could feel the energy crackling between them like a physical touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the cottoncandy_bingo prompt: "electricity/energy." Thanks to Amanda for looking this one over for me! Feedback makes me happy.

Santo Domingo is a nice city, warm and tropical and quite lovely, except when it's being hit by a hurricane.

And of course a hurricane blew up in the Caribbean right when they were there on a mission.  And it blew up fast; within twenty-four hours, it had exploded from nothing into a Category 1 storm and took aim right at Hispaniola.  Flights were swiftly cancelled, and Coulson called to tell them to can the mission and either get out or hunker down.

Well, hunker down it was, since they couldn't get out before the airport shut down entirely.  “Fuck this,” Clint said, and they packed up their bags and left the crappy hotel they’d been staying in.

They checked into the Hostal Nicolas de Ovando in the old part of Santo Domingo, and Natasha used her S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued Amex Black to get a ridiculously nice room.  If Accounting had a problem with it, she’d just glare at them until they left her alone.  If they were going to have to wait through a hurricane, Accounting could suck it up and pay.

The hotel was by the mouth of the Rio Ozama, a few blocks from the beach, which was probably not the best place to be in a hurricane, but they were on the fourth floor, and the hotel had stood up to hurricanes since the 16th century, so she figured they were safe.

As soon as they settled into their room, the electricity went out.

Natasha sighed.

Lightning flashed outside, sending jagged shadows through the darkened room, and she could see Clint’s grin in the brief flickers of blue light. "Of course," he laughed.

One of the front desk workers brought them a couple of candles and a book of matches, but they didn't bother lighting them.

Natasha liked leaning against the window and watching the storm roll in, the sky darkening as dusk fell, the wind picking up and whipping the palm trees back and forth. Rain pelted the windowpane, peppering the glass like buckshot as the wind gusted.

She could tell when Clint came up behind her without looking or even hearing him. His steps were silent on the plush carpet, but she could feel him behind her, like there was electricity jumping between their bodies. Her breath left fog on the windowpane when she sighed, reveling in the feel of his body so close to hers. 

His hands came to rest on the window beside hers, and there was barely an inch separating them. She closed her eyes and imagined that she could feel the energy crackling between them like a physical touch.

He brushed her hair over her shoulder, bringing his lips a breath's space from the back of her neck, and she shivered, sliding her hands over to his. "I want you," he breathed against her skin.

She moaned softly, pressing herself back against his solid body, gripping his hands when he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her skin. "I want to strip off all your clothes," he continued, his tongue teasing at her earlobe, "And then I'm going to get down on my knees and spread your legs, baby, and I'm going to slide my tongue inside of you--"

Turning her head, she caught his mouth in a kiss, fisting her hand in his hair. A gust of wind rattled the window, and she arched against him, sucking on his tongue. With a groan, he wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her hips back against his so she could feel his erection.

"Feel that?" he purred, his hand snaking up underneath her shirt. "Feel what you do to me?"

He pulled her shirt off over her head and unhooked her bra before unfastening her jeans and dragging them down her legs as he dropped to a crouch. After she stepped out, he skimmed her panties over her hips and off, and then he was grabbing her ass, spreading her apart so he could slide his tongue into her slit.

Her hand slapped flat against the windowpane, her cry steaming up the glass. "Oh god," she breathed, rising up on her toes and arching her back to give him better access.

His tongue was fucking perfect, long enough to really get inside of her, and he knew just how to move it so her knees went weak. But he was obviously frustrated that he couldn't get to her clit easily, so he turned around, putting his back against the base of the window and pulling her down onto his mouth, holding her there with a strong grip on her ass.

This was even better because she could grind on his face, rub herself against that clever tongue as he laved her clit, and soon she was clinging to the window, her bare breasts pressed against the glass and her hips jerking in his grasp. She felt exposed, naked in the window like that, but it made her feel powerful to know that if anyone looked up, they would see her getting tonguefucked.

But no one was on the street; the only witnesses to her pleasure were the wind, the driving rain, the flashes of lightning. The soundtrack of her orgasm was her sharp curse punctuated by the deep bass of thunder and the tenor whine of the hurricane.

She sank down into his lap, her legs too shaky to support her anymore, and he kissed her long and slow, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue. He was shirtless, but it was quick work to unzip his pants and shove them down over his hips, and he kicked them away before pulling her back against his body.

Skin on skin, and she loved being with him like that. Every touch sent little shocks through her body, as if when his hands slid down her back and hers gripped his shoulders, they completed a circuit. The current flowed through them, arcing in the flashes of lightning, and when she sank down onto his hard cock, their mouths fused together in passion, the jolt of pleasure made them both gasp and jerk and moan.

He brought her off again, hands on her hips guiding her movements, and she cried out his name, clenching down hard on him, her body quivering with shocks of ecstasy. A bright, close flash of lightning illuminated his face when he threw his head back, her name falling from his lips, and he gathered her close, holding her to him as he pulsed inside her.

The bed was soft, and she woke much later in the night to the velvet electric touch of his lips against her shoulder. "Sounds like the storm's blowing itself out," he whispered.

She rolled over and curled into his body, sighing into the warm night air.


End file.
